I'm hopped up on the NyQuil-Tussin-Benedryl cocktail, so prepare for typos and nonsensical writing. (I know, how is that different from any other post of mine?) But I want, NEED, to THANK and return some love to these generous, thoughtful bloggers/fellow writers/friends:

First up, my partner in alt rock, Gilmore Girls, and writing crime, the awesome Tara at Feel Of Something New gave me this Blogger BFF Award:

THANK YOU Tara! Back at you, girl.

Susan Fields at http://susanfieldswriter.blogspot.com/ Susan is one of the sweetest bloggers around, always leaving lovely comments. She awarded me with the Prolific Blogger Award. THANK YOU Susan! (I've already received this one a few times, so I've already linked to and all the others that have given me this award, so hopefully the Rule Police won't come and arrest me.)

Now, let's go fly the friendly skies on Air-DL at Cruising Altitude! DL is one of my favorite 'dudes', he makes me laugh, always leaves great comments, has a fantastic blog, and is a great guy. DL gave me this

Becky at B. Miller FictionB. has a wonderful blog and I just adore her. She leaves excellent and caring comments, and writes about dark, funky stuff going on in the south. B. gave me this unique Quest Award (a first for me for this award). Thanks B.!

I recently received this award, so I won't bore you all with more lies and truths (though, it IS FUN!) ...I know some of you really want this award, so please consider yourself TAGGED, take it and have fun with it! (6 truths and one lie, then your readers must guess which one is the truth)

SarahJayne certainly deserved this award, she is one of the most supportive commenters in the blogosphere! She has an excellent blog, a must for all writers. Thank you SJS! (I like to 'sing' Sarah Smile by Hall and Oats to her)

Also, I know I've missed some of the awards some of you have given me. I admit, I've lost track of some of them. It isn't because I'm not grateful. I'm just sick as a dog, and still dealing with the aftermath of the Shock and Awe delivered to me a couple weeks ago. It is requiring lots of lawyers, Public Administrators, and my time.
If I forgot your award, please let me know!
I want to give you the link love you deserve.

Is is just me or is blogger being super buggy today? Suddenly there are random X's where pictures should be. Not just on my blog, but others I visit, too. :(

I suppose it is fitting, because I also am buggy today. I woke up with the combo-platter of maladies, a vicious sore throat, stuffy, achy, feverish. Gratefully, no side order of intestinal ailments. I haven't crawled out from the blankets much. We have heavy rain here, which has been conducive to sleeping, and general sloth-like lazing. I'm a hot mess. Literally*.

(*please note that I believe I have never used the word "literally" in so much as one post. I say this, because I find it supremely annoying when people [over]use it, often incorrectly. That commercial airing right now for Dodge Caravan "literally giving birth to all other mini-vans"...dude. I'd literally like to see that non-mammal Caravan squeeze a Ford Aerostar out its hoo-ha. Would it be covered in motor oil and other fluids?)

For those of you that have graciously bestowed Awards on me last week...I know, I am very behind.

I am truly grateful. Honest. In the last 5-6 days I have received over a DOZEN Awards from you lovely, gorgeous, handsome, sweet people. I do not feel up to all that linkage today, I know you understand. I'll get to them soon.

My Weekend Frolicking in Review:
-Ate my weight in cupcakes and muffins
-Spent time with friends
-Spent an obscene amount of money on books at B&N. Here are a just few of the books I purchased:

The Song Is You by Arthur Phillips;

The Strain by Guillermo Del Toro:

(YA): Laviathan by Scott Westerfeld

--Watched a few movies last night, since I was already starting to feel the crud creeping:
~Brothers, which was better than I anticipated. Jake was cute, natch, and Toby did some excellent acting. But the scene stealers for me came from the little girls. The older little girl blew me away with her acting. IMDB gave it a 7.4, I think, and I will agree with that. Not more than that though.
~Up In The Air, which was funny and okay. Nothing amazing. But the cheater chick pissed me off, as did the overall sadness of people losing their jobs.
~Masterpiece last night (Sharpe) was fair-ish. (IMO)

--I did work a bit on my revisions. I am just about done with this WIP. It is almost ready to fly the coop. However I still have no title (aside from the always clever WIP#3) for this one. I suck at titles. So much pressure to get it right.

Okay, I really don't feel like my spunky self, so I shall sign off wishing you a wonderful rest of your Monday (and to my friends down under, I wish you a delightful Tuesday)!

It is a truth universally known by most of you that, for me, a character driven writer, writing dialog and believable characters that breathe is the easy-like-Sunday-morning part, pure pleasure. Voice and style come naturally to me, as well. In truth, I don't really outline. I just jot notes in a notebook, make some lists, and think a lot. Then I sit down with my laptop (sometimes in bed), and, maybe this is a sign of insanity, but suddenly colorful characters just show up, take me on their journey, complete with sounds, tastes, smells, and before I know it I have a beginning, middle and end.

Huzzah! Right?
Sure...ish.

That first draft is a MESS. Drop downs with lame notes to myself that don't make sense later. Connecting those pesky plot lines in the second draft? NOT EASY for me. It's a torture akin to getting a Brazilian...with an epilady. One hair at a time. Getting the structure and plot(s) under control, hole-free? I am Sisyphus, doomed to keep at it, throughout eternity. (or the 4th draft, whichever comes first)

This is where people tell me that I should outline, use a [fill in the blank] method, plot my arcs, color code, charts, graphs...just typing that makes me twitch.

That's just not how I function. I truly admire those organized people. I wish I was a chart and grapher. But, as much as I wish I was more like that, I have faced that I will never be that person.
My first draft, as I have said before, comes organically, instinctively. Yes, there are notes on napkins sometimes, too. But if I'm too strict with pre-plotting, it's like I've already told the story, bored now, why bother. Or, I do some weird rebelling against myself that makes me go off script from the Plan. So I just have to be loose with it. I wish it wasn't that way for me. It'd be less messy.
Anyway, I've resigned myself to the inevitable multiple rewrites to fix the parts that DO fail me...later. After I write the first draft. Oh, and believe me, there are always many overhauls with regard to plot and structure. Honestly, I do tolerate the rewrites, even those evil plot holes. I liken them to a big puzzle. I (sort of) enjoy don't hate working at it until I get all the pieces connected. Like I always say, I want to give my beta readers (I have three, and they are full of the awesome) as clean a manuscript as I am able.

Okay, so I've bored you posted about my wing-it process before, and every single time I get emails and comments asking me to explain how I:

-mend my plot snags and other areas of weakness? Answer: With endless drafts, studying craft, reading a lot, and with help from my husband and beta readers!

...and...

-how do I write my characters and their dialog so believably?
I consistantly parry this question. The main reason for this is, I have no idea how I do it. It is like explaining how you have a dream or how you breathe. I don't know how to articulate what happens in my pea brain, because I don't understand it myself. Plus, who would want to know how I do... anything? I'm afraid I'm a study in how NOT to [fill in the blank].

However, I was asked again just a couple days/posts ago, so, I thought all morning long, and could not come up with anything provocative, not one morsel meaty enough to chew on. But then again, I don't know how YOU guys all plot, especially you complicated plotters. Y'all are brilliant.

Anyway, for me it all boils down to character. And finding the truth to those characters. That's where the dialog gold is.
Is there a person alive who doesn't relate to Lloyd, in some way? Don't you admire his innocence and honesty? His shivering in the car because he is so happy gives me goosebumps. How painful is it to watch/hear him leave Diane eight (8! awesomely, painfully hilarious!) messages after she breaks his heart? Don't we all relate? When he says "...burn it, NUKE it...it hurts me just knowing it's out there..." we feel his angst and suffering and humiliation.
When he's driving in his car, while the rain is pounding, "The rain on my car is a baptism. The NEW me. Ice man. Power Lloyd. My assault on the world begins now." We feel his lame attempt at a pep talk to regain his self esteem, take back his power that she holds over him, in his mind. I love that scene. Haven't we all been there in some way? But isn't this just exactly how Lloyd would try and prop himself up? It rings true, clever, very Lloyd.

How careful was the layering of James Court (Diane's dad)? John Mahoney played that role perfectly nuanced, such subtle manipulations that later become overt. We dislike him soon enough, but appreciate that he loves his daughter. Then, slowly, he unravels, and we begin to hate him. Most of us have had a person in our lives that manipulated us, lied to our faces, guilt-tripped...in the name of "love", right?
So we relate to Diane's plight, her guilt, her desire to please, her pain, the betrayal.

All these characters are familiar, relatable...and yet, interesting and unique. They're just like us, and also they're different and intriguing...and believable.
If I went to the prison yard to meet with Diane's father, and give him her note, the second James started talking that condescending, degrading talk to me, I'd have told him he was an *&$%%#@*, and quickly walked out of there. Buh-bye. But, staying true to his good-hearted, earnest ways, Lloyd takes it, continues to be honest, and continues to try and makes James feel better. His character stays true, even under pressure. I relate to him, even when he does something different than I would do, and I like him more for it.

Say Anything is not an original story, in fact the theme and plot has been done to death. What makes it work is the script writing (dialog!), the believable, fleshed out characters (and arguably the great cast).

While I am too lame to explain exactly HOW I pull my characters out of the ether and how they reveal themselves to me over the course of the first draft (beyond my usual: It's like a movie playing in my head, I'm a freak.), I am also a reader, and I DO know what turns me off when I read a novel and find the characters flat and unbelievable.

-Believable characters and believable dialog comes from a writer that knows their characters, and understand people in general.
-Readers must quickly gain some emotional involvement, and keep that emotional involvement through to the end. If done well, the emotional involvement stays with us long after the last page has turned.

The quickest way for me to lose interest in a book is to read flat, cliche'd main characters. I will not care enough to continue, no matter the brilliant story concept or control of prose or tight plotting. For me, I don't need to like the characters, but they must feel real and they must be interesting.

If a character half-way through a book suddenly does something so out of character, especially without real motivation....I am out. And pissed off!

Character choices drive the story. I work hard to make sure their choices ring true to their personality and values. Make sure it moves the story forward. If not, I rip it out.

Dialog SHOWS how a character relates to other people, shows their voice, how they act and think, as well as use of language, slang, dialect, and mannerisms. Their sense of humor, what they are willing to say aloud, and what they don't say, all are part of how dialog reveals character. If you know your characters well, then writing believable dialog should come naturally.

To make sure you get this right, get out and 'people watch' (and eavesdrop!).
Listen and watch carefully HOW people really speak. Most people speak very differently than they write. We tend to speak casually. Notice where a breath is taken, or when they move their hands. Watch how their face moves when they chat with friends, or during family arguments. Watch when and how people interrupt. How often do they use the other person's name (not very often), do they use nicknames, or slang terms like 'dude' or 'bro'.
Even if we are talking about aliens, or talking animals/insects (Mrs. Frisby, Charlotte...) they must stay 'in-character' unless there is a compelling reason that is explained well.

I know anyone reading this blog already knows all this.
I am still not answering the question I keep getting asked.

Well, I won't go on any longer, because I know there are a hundred books out there by brilliant, pedigreed, qualified authors who can break down the technical aspect of writing dialog. It is well documented here and among all who know me, that I am non-technical. I wish I could offer something more helpful. What I can offer is my support. You are full of WIN. And the sure knowledge that we're in this together.

Happy Weekend! (sorry for all the typos, no time to read through for clarity...gotta run!)

"Why is it," he said, one time, at the subway entrance, "I feel I've known you so many years?""Because I like you," she said, "and I don't want anything from you."— Ray Bradbury (Fahrenheit 451)

First, I shall cough up the truth versus lies from the Creative (Liar) Writing Award. I found it very interesting that the people who guessed correctly guessed with complete conviction and confidence, while the incorrect guesses were just a 'maybe'-type guess. Most interesting indeed.
So, I'm gonna start at the bottom and work backward, because most of you guessed the bottom as correct.

7) I never lay in the sun because I'm terrified of skin cancer. Uh-oh. I'm in trouble from Tara. Because this is a Bald Face Lie. I ADORE being in the sun. I am a beach baby if ever there was one. I grew up on the beach and have spent most of my adulthood on the beach and on boats. I also like my perky-ish booty to be non-pasty. The sun on my skin heals my soul and blisses me out.

6) I love cute socks.No, I don't. This is a lie. All socks freak me out.

5) My first car was an RX7. Lie. My first car was a hunter green, soft-top, convertible Triumph Spitfire. It broke down constantly. Cute, but unreliable. However, my second car was indeed a silver RX7. It was very reliable, I loved it, but no more than 2 small people could fit, therefore it cramped my social lifestyle.

4) I hate the color pink. LIE! I LOVE pink! Really, it is one of my favorite colors, in all its shades. Pale pink tulips or peonies are my favorite bouquets. I'd drive an old pink thunderbird with fins in a hot second! (if they weren't so environmentally unfriendly/ gas-guzzley.) My favorite heels are pink (the cutest slingbacks you've ever seen). I really love almost every color, so it is hard to pick a favorite, but pink is up there at the top.

3) I drive a golf cart around my neighborhood with my dog on my lap.While this is technically a lie, I so want to!! Someday I will buy one (maybe a pink one! with a surfboard rack on top). In the meantime, I do walk my dog (with her pink leash) around my neighborhood.

2) I once kissed (only kissed, and only once) Billy Idol.Then I told him to bugger off.Ding-Ding-Ding, we have a winner! Truth. I was YOUNG (maybe I was 18, but Billy didn't know that) and 2 friends and I had backstage passes to a Billy Idol concert (Denver, Colo.) in the late 80's. After the concert, he asked my friends and I if we wanted to ride in his limo to the local hot dance club (it was called Confetti's). Naturally we did. (I was nervous the entire drive, in spite of the champagne, because I did not have a fake ID...yet. I was afraid they wouldn't let me in.) Of course, they let us all in and escorted us upstairs to the VIP lounge where we could look down on the "peasants" and the dance floor. After my second glass of champagne, he planted the kiss one me. I pulled back, smiled at him, and told him to dream on. Then I got up and grabbed my friends and walked downstairs to be a peasant. My friends and I danced the night away, later called a cab, and went home alone. FYI: Billy had no problem finding someone else to meet his needs. This is a true story.

1) I have never broken a bone in my body.Lie. But, I have never worn a cast. I have broken toes and my tailbone, none of which can be casted.

Okay, I'm sure that is far more about me than you ever wanted to know. I feel vainglorious having spent that much time talking about myself. Thank you for playing along.

Now onto some Pro's Prose...

I found this something great yesterday at Lapham's Quarterly. Before his death, Kurt Vonnegut gave this (rather funny, in his usual satirical manner) talk now dubbed Kurt Vonnegut at the Blackboard. If you click the link below you may read the 'talk".In case you are unfamiliar, Lewis Lapham is a national correspondent and editor for Harper's Magazine, and he also publishes Lapham's Quarterly, which I enjoy greatly. He had permission to reprint Kurt's talk, I think you will enjoy it, so go read it. Let me know what you think.

I LOVED Slaughterhouse Five, as many of you know. (I've talked about it before).

So in keeping with the theme, I thought I would re-print Kurt's Eight Rules:

Kurt Vonnegut's Eight Rules On Writing...

In his book Bagombo Snuff Box: Uncollected Short Fiction, Vonnegut listed eight rules for writing a short story (in my opinion, ANY length story):

Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.

Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.

Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.

Every sentence must do one of two things—reveal character or advance the action.

Start as close to the end as possible.

Be a Sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them—in order that the reader may see what they are made of.

Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.

Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To hell with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages.

Vonnegut qualifies the list by adding that Flannery O'Connor broke all these rules except the first, and that great writers tend to do that.

And a few KV quotes for fun and further inspiration and because Dude was AWESOME.

"I tell you, we are here on Earth to fart around, and don't let anybody tell you different."

"I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all the kinds of things you can't see from the center. "

"If people think nature is their friend, then they sure don't need an enemy. "

True terror is to wake up one morning and discover that your high school class is running the country. "

Hi,
I apologize for being away so long, I've been in a major writing zone, and dealing with the aftermath of last week's Shock and Awe.

In the last 5 days I have been honored to receive lots of awards from some very kind fellow writers!

I didn't prepare a speech, ladies and gents, because who'd've thought? Seriously?I am humbled and grateful, and perhaps a bit unworthy. Thank you.
I only have time to post one of the awards:

which requires me to list 10 things about myself that you may not know:

1) I am terribly sentimental (emphasis on the mental), and name our automobiles, appliances, plants and other random objects of love. (my MacBook's name is Maxine)

2) I love the BIG box of Crayola crayons...the way they smell, the names of the colors (Mac 'n Cheese orange). I buy a new box once a year, promptly rearrange them in their box into a ROYGBIV rainbow. It makes me happy just looking at it.

3) I will not use a public restroom. I can hold it forever. Dirty bathrooms freak me out. Ew!

4) I am a sucker for a great smile, and blue eyes.

5) I HATE wearing socks. They freak me out. (I never wear them unless I'm skiing or working out with sneakers on.) I cannot watch someone wear socks to bed! Socks against sheets is way worse than fingernails down a chalkboard (to me). I wear mostly flip flops, strappy sandals, high heels, or I go barefoot in the summer....Uggs/boots (no socks), or barefoot around the house in the winter.

6) I abhor when people talk on their cell phones LOUDLY in public places, especially bookstores, libraries, and restaurants. So rude. Take it outside, please.

I will cover you with love when next I see you, with caresses, with ecstasy. I want to gorge you with all the joys of the flesh, so that you faint and die. I want you to be amazed by me, and to confess to yourself that you had never even dreamed of such transports.... When you are old, I want you to recall those few hours, I want your dry bones to quiver with joy when you think of them. ~Gustave Flaubert, letter to wife Louise Colet, 15 August 1846

Yeah, that's me in the corner. Of your blog. In a little tiny box, on your sidebar, officially all part of your posse. I fixed my following glitch! Raise the roof...and a drink.

So, in celebration o' Irish luck today, I added a shot of Baileys to my morning' coffee...and blasted a Flogging Molly CD, while I went around the blogosphere of YOU, and used my newfound mad following skillz.

As for the quickies, I was referring to this lame, quick post. Me and my perky butt (of soreness...see yesterday's post) leave you with this Irish bit of AWESOME:

As a writer, I am too often sitting, hunched over my macbook, wandering aimlessly down some twisted path in my head, listening to the voices. I'm all deep 'n stuff, like that.

But today, as the prodigal sun finally returns (shines), and thus the realization that spring is soon upon us, I gave my lazy bones a stern talking to, the what-for.

"Get off your butt and onto that treadmill! Not after you finish that chapter, NOW."

Eh, I'll go for a bike ride or take the dog for a walk when I'm done with this plot line.

"Listen you no-working-out-all-winter flabby slob, I have one word....I have TWO(-ish) words: bathing-suit season!!"

Damn.

Thing is, I like doing fun activities (surfing, swimming, etc.), and I like looking cute in shorts, but I HATE getting on that evil treadmill. It's BORING. Every little green lit-up dash mark, every turn of every corner of every lap, every drop of sweat makes me want to scream:

Seriously, I'd rather stick a fork in my eye.
A dull, rusty fork.

"But, I don't love atrophying."

Fine. I'll do a quick 2 miles. Then will you leave me alone for the day?

"TWO miles?! Ptew! I spit on your two measly miles. Give me three miles, and some new shoes and we have a deal."

May your pen be mighty

About Me

Lola Sharp

My name is Lola. (I'm not a showgirl) Yes, L-O-L-A Lola. It's the least of my worries. Let's move on, shall we?
This blog is mostly about my misadventures on the journey to publication and beyond. My passion for lush prose, quirky characters, art, music, literature, performing arts and anything creative will be a major theme here. This journey of mine will not always be pretty. Much like rubbernecking a train wreck, I know sometimes you just can't help but look at the carnage that is often my life. So strap on your neck brace, helmet and 5-point harness and come along for the ride!
Licentia poetica.